


Later

by yeaka



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Dry Humping, Episode Related, Established Relationship, Ficlet, M/M, Nipple Play, canon mpreg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-21
Updated: 2014-10-21
Packaged: 2018-02-22 02:00:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,638
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2490365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/yeaka/pseuds/yeaka
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>To quote Phlox, Archer helps Trip “puts those nipples to use.” (Set during s1e5, “Unexpected”)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Later

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: My first ENT. Set during/after s1e5, “Unexpected”
> 
> Disclaimer: I don’t own Star Trek or any of its contents, and I’m not making any money off this.

Jonathan’s _just_ starting to drift off, convinced his moody lover has finally conked out, when Trip grumps into the darkness, “He didn’t have to look so damn happy about it.”

Because Trip’s been complaining on and off all night about everything from T’Pol to Porthos to T’Pol again, Jonathan just sighs and doesn’t answer. 

“We shouldn’t invite him to dinner anymore.” _We_ , as though he’s co-captain and it’s perfectly normal for the commanding officer to eat in private with his chief engineer every night, and not something _Jonathan’s_ specially set up. “Honestly, I can’t take this much longer!”

Jonathan knows he shouldn’t tease. But he’s been on the verge of laughing at Trip all day. He knows it isn’t funny that a mystery alien’s somehow managed to impregnate Trip. It’s a serious problem. But Trip brought up dinner first, so he still blurts out, “Just wait until you have to put those nipples to use.”

The bed whirls; Trip’s jerking around. Jonathan leans away but still gets hit in the chest area. He ‘oof’s but is too busy trying not to laugh to feel pain. Trips growls in frustration and snarls, “I can’t believe Phlox said that in front of that ensign!” And Jonathan has to bite his lip so he doesn’t tease more. The room is pitch-black, but he’s sure that if he could see anything, it would be Trip glaring. Or pouting.

“I’m sorry.” He’s not really, but it’s the gentlemanly thing to say. Trip grumbles, and the blankets shuffle while he shifts. Jonathan half expects him to roll back over, but instead, he settles down against Jonathan’s side, apparently placated. His chin fits into the hollow of Jonathan’s neck and shoulder, blond hair prickling against his cheek, one arm draping over his chest and one leg twisting around his. The warmth is more than welcome, and Jonathan twists to peck Trip’s forehead. He sticks his arm under Trip’s shoulders and feels his way up to the small of Trip’s back, petting it soothingly. When Trip sighs, Jonathan can feel the breath ghost over his throat. 

Trip mumbles into the darkness, “I look like a freak.”

“You look as good as you always do.”

Trip snorts. “I have extra _nipples_ on my wrists.”

“You know I like your nipples.”

Trip snorts again, but this time, there’s undeniable amusement in it. He’d probably be looking away and denying it if they were up and about, but they’re safe in bed at night, and he can smile all he likes without Jonathan seeing, even if Jonathan already _knows_.

Jonathan bends to kiss him again, this time lingering, and Trip insists, “And it’s not just that. I’m hormonal and anxious, and if we don’t find those aliens again—”

But Jonathan doesn’t want to go through all of that right now, so he just rolls Trip over. Trip cuts off, grunts, and lands on his back, while Jonathan drapes over him, the sheets tangled about their waists. Jonathan supports himself on his elbows and knees, straddling his boyfriend, and he uses a trail of kisses to explore his way to Trip’s mouth. When he finds it, he seals them together, pleased when Trip’s tongue automatically rises up to meet him, and not just because it shuts Trip up. He kisses Trip long and hard, rolls his hips into Trip’s, and tries not to be too disgruntled at the strange shape along Trip’s side. It’s temporary. It’s amusing, but it’s serious. Jonathan will stand by him either way, love him either way, but it doesn’t matter, because they’re going to find those aliens and they’re going to fix this—he’s going to make sure of that. 

He kisses his way down Trips’ chin, nipping at Trip’s jaw and noting, “You need to shave, Commander.” Trip makes a generic noise and ignores it. Jonathan kisses down his neck, along his collarbone, smoothes over his broad shoulders and flattens their bodies together—they’ll never get to sleep now without at least _some_ fun. And it’s the least he can do: take Trip’s mind off things. Reassure Trip that at least _this_ doesn’t have to change. Jonathan sucks on the dip of Trip’s collarbone as his hands gather up the blue fabric of Trip’s nightshirt, rolling it up his taut chest, taking liberties to stop and feel along the way. They’re both big men, chiseled and strong, but Trip’s tight pecs and muscled stomach are particularly irresistible. Jonathan moves his shirt right up past his nipples, then hooks them over the little, still-soft nubs. 

Trip sucks in a breath and mutters, “Captain—” but Jonathan isn’t in the mood for playing formal, and he keeps moving on. 

He skips straight over the fabric and places a hard, lingering kiss between Trips’ pecs. He sits himself down on Trip’s crotch, earning another gasp, and he rubs them together, body arched to fit, to get as much stimulation as possible in all the best places. The blanket’s already rolled down his back, which is probably for the best; Trip’s skin is burning under him. He knows that’s not part of the alien influence. That’s just natural _Trip_ , hot in every sense of the word. Jonathan runs his fingers around the smooth expanse of Trip’s waist, avoiding the alien growth and enjoying everything else, and Trip jerks suddenly up into him, rutting their hips together. It makes Jonathan grunt in pleasure and do it again, until they’re steadily humping each other like children. 

Trip starts to mumble, “Are you sure we should be doing thi—” But then Jonathan’s kissing him again, and he cuts off. If it isn’t safe, surely Phlox would’ve told them; it can’t be a secret that Trip spends most of his nights in Jonathan’s bed. And it would be impossible for that to stay innocent. 

Jonathan makes his way to Trip’s left nipple and draws his tongue in a slow circle around the little nub in the center. Then he laps over it, back and forth, up and down, over and over, until it starts to harden, and then he grazes it with his teeth. Trip makes a strangled moan, and that just encourages Jonathan to play harder; he bites into Trip’s nipple and tugs it out, loving the cry it earns him. 

Then he’s pulling it into his mouth and sucking on it, grinding Trip down into the mattress and noting every buck and sway and tremor in Trip’s body. By the time Jonathan releases the captive in his mouth, Trip is writhing in his arms. 

“ _Jon_ —”

Jonathan’s already kissing his way to the next one. He gives it similar treatment, nuzzling into it and licking and nipping, and one hand drifts up Trip’s taut stomach to keep the other one occupied. It’s slick with saliva in his fingers, and he gently rolls it around with his thumb while he sucks the right one into his mouth. He suckles on it and finds his hips now grinding of their own accord, his body all turned on and in a fervor over Trip’s. That’s never hard to do. He could probably come just from looking at Trip’s handsome body, but actually touching it, kissing it and feeling it sliding under his...

Jonathan tries to pull off, just so he can wipe off his chin, but Trip’s hand comes out of nowhere. It cups the back of his head, threads in his hair, and holds him down. He can hear Trip panting and feel Trip’s chest rising and falling rapidly to take in air. Evidently, the alien influence hasn’t made certain parts of him any less sensitive. If anything, they might be more so. One of Trip’s legs hooks around his waist, making the angle easier to slide their clothed cocks together, and if Jonathan’s mouth were free, he’d tease about having found a new fetish of Trip’s. Instead, he sucks away at his boyfriend’s chest and tugs Trip’s other nipple mercilessly, because the more he does, the more Trip moans. 

Then Jonathan bites down, and Trip _screams_ , arches off the bed and throws Jonathan with him. His fingernails dig almost painfully into Jonathan’s skull, his hips on overdrive and the front of his pajama pants going damp. He’s come in them. The knowledge makes Jonathan shiver. He can smell Trip’s release in the air, and it makes him desperately horny. 

He fumbles around for Trip’s other hand, currently fisted tight in the blankets, and he shoves it between them. Trip gets the hint and slides into his pants, wraps around his cock and starts to squeeze, even as Jonathan is still slamming them together. 

A few sorely dry pumps of Jonathan’s cock, and he’s following, more turned on from Trip’s noises and body and scent than any pleasure of his own. Trip _is_ his pleasure. He jerks his head back, leaving another wet nipple exposed to the cold air, and Trip is now a whining, whimpering mess beneath him, that he covers in kisses from neck to forehead. 

When they’ve both ruined their underwear and run out of energy to pound into one another, they die into slow rolls, and Jonathan finally pushes off, tumbling onto his back besides Trip. Trip is panting next to him. They should go clean up. They should sleep. Jonathan mutters, “I guess we put them to good use after all.” And Trip punches him in the arm.

He deserved it. He pushes Trip over, rolls Trip onto his side and drapes along his back. Jonathan spoons up against his lover and tugs the blankets up around them. For a moment, it’s quiet, just heavy breathing and the almost imperceptible hum of the ship. 

Then Trip breathes, so quietly that Jonathan almost misses it, “If we don’t find them, you’ll help me raise it, right?”

Jonathan promises, “Of course.”


End file.
